Fair Play
by Diluted Thoughts
Summary: Just because Seth was his greatest rival didn't mean Mahaado couldn't enjoy himself...even a little. But then again, little things — even words — go a long way, given the right incentive. Seth/Mahaado. Headdressshipping.


"Mahaado, will you please tell Seth that I need to speak to him?"

Needless to say—but for the sake of saying so anyway—it wasn't a task that he really wanted to carry out. But then again, what was he supposed to say to his Pharaoh, _I'm sorry, Your Lordship, go ask someone else because that inappropriate Rod-stroking high priest in question is an abomination bent on overthrowing you and sending Egypt into mass chaos_?

…

So this is where he found himself now: aimlessly wandering through the palace garden, which was where one of the maidservants (who also happened to be known as one of Seth's **numerous** faithful admirers) said he would be.

Progress so far? None at all.

Really and with all-do respect, what did the Pharaoh need to tell Seth anyway? Couldn't it have just waited until they dined? There were so many other things he could have been doing, such as practicing his wizardry skills and even…_even_ teaching Mana.

Okay, so he didn't have so many things to do. But it beat looking for someone whose ego was as oversized as the cape he wore—which, mind you, was an act against humanity.

The priest's gaze flickered here, there and then back again. Where _was_ Seth anyway? He wasn't **that** hard to miss, what with his flashy headdress and the aforementioned cape of destruction.

"Looking for me, magician?"

Oh, for the love of Ra. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

Mahaado cleared his throat, and turned to see the high priest casually leaning against a nearby wall, Sennen Rod in hand, arms folded over his chest. Despite the usual pallor of his skin, Seth looked even paler for whatever reason—probably because of the shade given from a neighboring tree.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"And for what do I owe this honor?"

Mahaado ignored the blatant sarcasm, and instead donned an aloof smile. "The King wishes to speak to you."

"For what, pray tell?"

"I haven't the slightest clue."

A pause, courtesy of His High Priestly-ness himself.

"I suppose he can wait."

An indifferent shrug. "It's _your_ title that's at stake. I could honestly care less."

Seth pushed himself off the wall some, turning his full attention towards Mahaado.

"Oh?" he asked, his smile still as condescending as ever. Mahaado narrowed his gray eyes at Seth, and for a split second could have swore he saw an unnatural gleam in those cold blue eyes staring back at him.

"Really, Seth, if you think everyone is as devoted to you as your—let's call them _fangirls—_are then you're sadly mistaken."

For each few words that Mahaado said, Seth seemed to take a step closer.

"Is that so?"

Seth stood in front of him.

"It is so."

He leaned forward.

"Well, we shall see."

By now, Seth was all but pressing himself against him. Mahaado raised his chin up lightly, defiantly.

Perhaps he could use this to _his _advantage…

Mahaado licked his lips. "We shall—"

The words barely left his lips before Seth was upon him, kissing him fiercely, pushing up against him until he was backed into the wall. Mahaado gave in willingly, savoring the kiss and returning it with just as much intensity.

He felt his headdress drop to the floor with a light _thud_, and then Seth's slender fingers twining into his long locks of auburn hair. Seth ended the kiss with a flick of his tongue across Mahaado's lips.

Mahaado tipped his head back, resting it against the wall as Seth grazed his lips across his jaw, slowly moving down to his throat. Raising his hand, Mahaado removed Seth's headdress and carelessly held it in his hand, allowing Seth to move in even closer.

Despite how incredibly good this all felt, Mahaado hadn't forgotten what he'd said.

Not by a long shot.

Mahaado trailed the fingers of his free hand down the length of Seth's arm, brushing them against the Rod he firmly clutched before moving towards his chest. If Seth noticed, he chose not to react.

At least not _yet_.

Mahaado's hand matched the tempo of Seth's lips. As his lips went lower, so did his own hand, gradually creeping lower…

…and lower…

…and lower still…

…until—

Seth inhaled sharply.

An uncharacteristic smirk played across Mahaado's features.

**Success**.

Mahaado pulled his hand away and instead took hold of the Sennen Rod. It was easily done, considering Seth's weakened grip during that instant.

After all, this couldn't get too far. Yet.

Seth didn't seem to mind getting his Rod taken away from him. He only tightened his grip in the priest's hair and resumed kissing his neck, now even more intensely than before.

"You do realize we're still in the garden?" Mahaado asked as casually as he could, which was—for lack of a better word—rather difficult.

"I am quite aware of that."

Mahaado decided not to let the warm breath beating down his neck bother him. But it wasn't easy.

"Someone might see us."

"Your point?"

…

Okay, it was time for a different approach.

"The Pharaoh is still expecting you."

Seth swore from his place at Mahaado's neck.

Pulling back with the highest degree of reluctance that Mahaado had ever seen in the high priest, Seth ran a hand through his lightly mussed hair. Sighing with the slightest hint of irritability, he held out his hand.

Mahaado met his gaze questioningly, with a raised brow.

"I need my Rod back."

"You won't be getting it back."

Mahaado started speaking before Seth even had a chance to protest, "That is, unless, you agree to my…stipulation."

Seth's eyes narrowed slightly before he caught the cunning smile on the magician's face. He dipped back down towards the side of his neck.

"And what stipulation would that be?" Seth asked eagerly.

Mahaado didn't have to look at Seth to see the signature smirk plastered onto his face.

Seth clearly had no intention of pulling away this time, so Mahaado spoke even as he kissed him. "My chamber. Tonight. Long after sunset. Perhaps we can negotiate on you getting your Rod back." His sentences came out as short, choppy and incomplete, but at least they were comprehensible—considering he'd said it all in one breath.

"Expect me early."

Mahaado couldn't help but laugh. "That eager to get your Rod back?"

Seth bit his ear tersely, and whispered huskily, "Among other things…"

Straightening himself, Mahaado pushed Seth away from him. He kissed him briefly, pulling away before Seth had a chance to react, and replaced the serpentine headdress back onto the high priest's head. Mahaado studied him in thoughtful silence.

"You look better without it."

Retrieving his own headdress, Mahaado began walking away, feeling Seth's impatient gaze at his back.

Sure, Seth may have been his archrival, not to mention a complete and utter heathen whose infuriating sense of self-importance was in a class all its own, along with his warped sense of authority that consisted of 'if you don't listen to me, you'll live to regret it'…

…but Mahaado had to admit, he liked his style.

"Magician, do you really expect that I go to the Pharaoh without my Item?"

"High Priest," Mahaado began, matching his tone of voice, "think of an excuse—you're rather talented at that."

Flashing Seth a self-satisfied grin before he turned his back to him, Mahaado silently began ticking the minutes until sunset.

* * *

_Okay, so, yeah._

_…_

_The title was my attempt at a pun._

_"O rly?"_

_Yeah, I know it sucked._

_Three cheers for such a sexy pairing. At least I think it's one._

_Reviews are greatly appreciated, m'darlings!_


End file.
